Old Friends
by Petchricor
Summary: A seventeen year-old Peter sees a young raccoon running away from a bunch of thugs and decides to help *sort of AU*


**Dwellerofcrag suggested Baby Rocket and this was the closet I could get without feeling like I had made something utterly retarded. Anyway, enjoy~  
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When he landed on this planet it had just been to look around, to finally be on his own without the ravagers hovering over his shoulder because he was a little kid. He was seventeen now and had his own ship that he could take to any planet that he wanted. When he had seen the poor little guy being chased by those thugs, well, he didn't quite know what came over him as he bolted in their direction. Peter skidded around a tree, or what he assumed was some kind of tree on this planet, and scooped him up in his arms. He struggled but his small size made it easy for Peter to hold him in place. He raised his pistol and shot two of them in the leg, the other three going to grab with own guns as Peter turned and ran off, ducking behind people and through small crevasses in the crowd to lose them. Yandu taught him well, he lost them in under a minute.

"Awesome," Peter muttered and ran back to the Milano, closing the door behind him. "Don't worry little guy, you're save." Peter knelt and let him go, watching the little guy stumble onto the floor and looked around him curiously. He was so small and looked so much like the raccoons on earth that Peter remembered, but he was also different somehow. He turned to Peter and the two stared at each other a long moment. He tried to stand on two feet like Peter had and started to walk forward, but he fumbled and Peter caught him. "Easy there buddy, I gotchya." Peter stood and carried him to the kitchen. "What are you doing out here all alone, huh?" He trilled and Peter set him on the table.

"Abandoned." Peter stared at him when he spoke, his voice raspy from under use and recognizably young. He held out his hands and Peter winced at the mechanics he saw there. "Ex...exper...experiment." Peter frowned and nodded. He walked over to the cupboard and opened it, pulling down some lemon cookies. He held one out and watched as the little guy munched on it contently, looking around at the ship. Peter walked over to his cassette player. When the music played Peter jumped when the little guy ran up beside him in an instant.

"Whoa!" Peter shouted. "You're like a rocket man, geez."

"Rocket?" he tilted his head.

"Yeah, it's something that's really fast. In fact, how would you like to be called that? Rocket, I like it, it's got a nice ring to it," Peter said. He nodded and Peter grinned. "Rocket it is." Rocket sat and listened as Peter played his music and they ate lemon cookies in silence, just enjoying each others company. Rocket stayed late into the night, sleeping curled up by Peter's feet before working his way up between his arms, but the next morning he was gone and Peter would never Rocket ever again. Or, so he thought.

AΩ

Rocket swore this place looked familiar somehow, the Milano, but he couldn't quite figure out why it did. He couldn't remember a time when he had ever been on this class of ship before, but it might be some sort of memory from before he had been turned into a freak. He shrugged it off for awhile to focus on the task at hand but after they had defeated Ronan he couldn't help but have that feeling come back and he swore he knew this place. He kept staring at the table like it had insulted him somehow for almost ten whole minutes when Peter started playing the ridiculous music. Rocket growled and looked over his shoulder at Peter, who was humming to the song and opening a box.

When the box opened Rocket sniffed the air and he _knew_ he had smelled those before. He ran over and got up onto the table, looking into the box. Peter raised a brow and held the box out to him. Rocket slowly reached in and pulled one of them out, sniffing it and taking a bite. Yeah, he had definitely had these before. Rocket glared at the cookie as though it held the answers and looked up when Peter started to laugh. Rocket growled at him and crossed his arms, making sure to keep the cookie away from his fur. Peter smiled just a bit.

"You don't remember, do you?" Rocket tilted his head. "Yeah, didn't think so. You were only this big." Peter put his hands about a foot away from each other. "And I was about this high." He held his hand about five feet above the ground. "It was about, what? Seven, eight, years ago?" Rocket stared at Peter, then at the tape, then at the cookie still in his hand, then back to Peter. What was he-"Surprised you kept the name."

"YOU!" Peter jumped when Rocket screamed and pointed at him. "It was _you_? No way, I ain't buying it." Peter glared at him as Rocket ate the cookie. "Prove it."

"There were five of them, you stole a unit strip for twenty units, I shot two, lost them, and brought you on the ship. Named you Rocket because you were so fast. Happy?" Rocket stared at Peter in disbelief for a moment before finishing the cookie, hopping on the table and walking away. "Apparently not."

AΩ

That night Peter heard his door open and he raised his head as it closed. He turn his light on to see Rocket walking over to him, almost nervously. Peter tilted his head but didn't say anything, knew by the expression Rocket was thinking. Rocket hopped onto the bed but didn't look at Peter right away, looking around him. He looked at Peter, who raised a brow, and slowly crawled up and under his arms, just like he had done all those many years ago.

"I kept the name, because that was the only time anyone didn't see me as a freak," Rocket whispered. "You showed me kindness back then, something I hadn't seen in years, and eight or so years later you did it again. Thank you." Peter smiled and scratched behind his ears, holding back a laugh when Rocket smiled. Peter reached over and turned the light off, the two settling down and falling into peaceful sleep.

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**And that's a wrap!**

**Thanks for reading, please review and have a bow chicka bow wow day~**

**Petchricor, QotG, signing off ;)**


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